


Slid Into a Spin

by dedougal



Series: That Star Can Twinkle [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, teen wolf bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 23:04:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny seizes his opportunity when Stiles's jeep gives up on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slid Into a Spin

**Author's Note:**

> For the car repair square on my Teen Wolf Bingo. And because I wanted to come back to pretend boyfriend becoming real Danny/Stiles.

Danny drove his mom’s car. There were a lot of reasons for why he drove his mom’s car that basically boiled down to the need to pick up his little sister and the need to save for college. Danny knew he was going to be aiming high, aiming for somewhere that he was gonna need scholarships and grants and everything for. One other advantage of driving his mom’s car, no matter how uncool it is: the car never broke down. Well, it did, but his mom always takes care of it and Danny doesn’t have to do much more than contribute for gas now and again.

That meant Danny didn’t tend to get into the situation he found Stiles in. Stiles was leaning over the engine of his Jeep, muttering, with the hood precariously propped open above him. Danny was still not one hundred percent about where they were with their friendship bleeding beyond but he recognized a man in need.

“Want a hand? Or a ride?” Stiles looked up at that, eyebrows trying to vanish into his hairline. “In my car.” Danny gestured towards his total mom car. He also thanked his lucky stars he didn’t blush easily, unlike Stiles whose ears were now glowing gently. "I just have to pick up my sister first?"

“Yeah. I have absolutely no idea what I’m looking at, so yeah. I’ll get my dad to organize a tow.” Stiles slammed the hood closed and followed Danny to his car, sliding into the passenger seat. “I, um… Just going to text-“ Stiles pulled his phone out and poked at it as Danny slid the car out of the school lot and headed for the community center.

“Food?” Danny asked, as Stiles paused in his frantic texting.

“Bed.” Stiles looked up. “We’re not playing word association, are we? That was a question.”

“That was a question.” Danny checked his mirrors and changed lanes. “My sister's ballet class doesn't end for a while and we’re early. I’ll buy you a muffin. Or fries?” The diner was only a few shops down from the center. When he looked back at Stiles, Stiles was watching him closely. Danny went back to watching the road.

“Fries.” Stiles tapped at his phone for a moment. “You probably want to know why I associated bed with food?”

“I’m good,” said Danny. He was having quite a lot of trouble not associating Stiles with bed right now. “If we’re eating in public…”

“This is like a date. Totally. Which will help with the whole pretend boyfriend thing.” Stiles bounced in his seat before suddenly freezing and then subsiding like an old mattress puffed up by the wind. “If you are still…”

“I’m still.” Danny flicked on his blinker and pulled into the lot. They had twenty minutes and Danny was going to enjoy this. He held out his hand as Stiles came around the car, still texting. He was frowning at the phone now. Danny waited a moment longer that he would normally have before Stiles stretched out his hand, tentative and slow, like he couldn’t believe it, and placed his hand in Danny’s. They fell into step as they walked down the street.

 

“So, what’s the matter with your Jeep?” Danny liked watching Stiles eat. He inhaled food, his face twisted into various ridiculous exaggerated expressions of bliss. Danny wondered if Stiles looked like that when he came, which was a problem, because now Danny was back to imagining Stiles coming and himself being the cause and that was not happening anytime soon. They were just friends. Just pretend.

Stiles swallowed rapidly. “It’s old. It doesn’t like too much rain. Which is ironic for a vehicle designed to be all rugged and outdoors.”

“Did it just not start?” Danny planted his foot firmly on the floor. He wanted to slide it across the floor, trap Stiles’ foot with it. Danny managed to keep all these feelings under control in school – there were always other people around – but when it was just him and Stiles, it was harder. Stiles had a splash of ketchup on the curve of his cheek and Danny waved his hand at it, laughing as Stiles tried to lick it off. He reached across the table and wiped it off with his thumb before he even really thought it through, sticking his thumb into his mouth to clean it off afterwards.

Stiles’s eyes went wide before he swallowed, again, and spoke all too quickly. “There was this nasty grating sound. I thought I’d better stop trying to get it to start.”

“Sounds expensive.” Danny checked his own phone. They still had five minutes before they should head back to the center.

Stiles shrugged. “It’s worth it. It’s not like I can drive a cruiser around, right?” Stiles’s eyes crinkled as he thought about it and Danny admitted it was pretty damn funny. “And-“ Stiles cut off, laughter gone.

Danny slid his foot across the floor under the table. He let it stroke up Stiles’s calf. “Hey,” Danny said, voice soft and reassuring. “You don’t have to explain.”

“It was my mom’s,” Stiles said, quick, like he was peeling off a bandaid.

“I get it.” Danny didn’t shift his foot and Stiles didn’t pull away either. Instead he looked up to meet Danny’s eyes. Danny might not have lost either of his parents but he’d been real close to his Pops before he’d died. Some days he used his Pops’s old style razor just because he could. He and Stiles slipped into a silence that wasn’t exactly comfortable – there was something in the air between them, possibility? A charge? Danny wasn’t sure. He didn’t exactly need to dance around guys, not since he came out. He wasn’t dancing around Stiles either. He was just playing it close to his chest.

He was also enjoying the small glimpses of the real Stiles he was seeing underneath the class clown persona Stiles wore like an old habit. The Stiles who was now checking his phone again, texting and muttering under his breath.

 

His sister was fascinated by Stiles. She sat as far forward as her seatbelt would allow and questioned him about his hair, his shirt, his taste in music. Danny pretended to be focused on the road but he was listening carefully to the answers. Eventually they pulled up outside of Stiles’s house and that weird silence fell again.

“I’m going to walk you in,” Danny said, getting out. Stiles side-eyed him for a moment before following him up to the front step. 

“Thanks for the ride. And the fries. And the sister time. She’s cool.” Stiles smiled, one hand on his backpack and the other just hovering in the air between them, caught in some aborted gesture.

“Any time.” Danny rocked on his heels, suddenly and intensely nervous. “Really. Although, next time, we could hang out. Just a bit more. And without Ada.” He focused his eyes on Stiles’s hand rather than looking at him. The hand flailed.

“Sure.” Stiles sounded a little strangled. They stood in front of the Stilinski house while Danny racked his brain for anything, something, to make this less awkward. Luckily Stiles couldn't stay silent for long. “Not pretend, right?”

“Yeah.” Danny finally chanced a glance up. “And, you know, if you need a ride. In the car. Until the Jeep is better. Just-“ Danny shrugged. He wasn’t even going for smooth anymore.

Stiles jerked his head in a way too enthusiastic nod. Then he turned to the porch before spinning around on one heel and coming to grab Danny’s shirt. He pressed his mouth against Danny’s, short, wet, messy and uncoordinated.

Danny grinned. “That’s on the cards too, you know.” Stiles went bright red – absolutely no subtlety this time – and waved at him, heading to the door for real this time. Danny had to endure the taunting of a particularly perceptive nine year old for way too long when he got stuck at every red light in town but he didn’t care. His cards were there, laid out, on the table. And Stiles knew just how to read them.

**Author's Note:**

> Next up! First date and the return of Stiles's mysterious bruises.


End file.
